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Life was oddly normal for having an egg-heavy gold on her ledge. While Elzebuth had become a common feature of it now, Martirae had found that the dark brown was really the only real change to her day to day routine. She still did her drills as needed. She fought Thread as needed. She did her paperwork as needed. But she also counted down the days and mused with Iathe and Zyamel with idle bets as to how large the clutch would be when it came. While Anakumath glowed with maternal bliss, Martirae radiated pride on her dragon’s behalf. It was a proud time. Anakumath would give unto other candidates what she had received from Rhianth - her future.
She noted idly when the gold seemed particularly interested in the hatching grounds, some days it was far more than others, but it grew more frequent.
Even curled up with Elzebuth, Anakumath grew more and more restless. Proud, eager, but restless. Each unfamiliar pang inside of her was new and lingered on with curiosity. She’d know when it was time, she’d simply not known how. She grew hungrier over the weeks - notably so - feasting as though she would never eat again. It would be barely past mid-day when that hunger gave way to need. While she’d laid down in the hatching sands before, getting a feel for their warmth and what place felt right, it was different than the absolute pull inside of her that urged her to them.
Elzebuth. She reached out to her mate, her tone urgent but not desperate. She didn’t need to say it. He would know, certainly.
To say that Elzebuth had grown infinitely more smug over Anakumath’s state was an understatement. The big brown had not understood what it meant to be so hopelessly enamored with something he’d never met until this moment. When he laid at his Queen’s side, he couldn’t help but nose gently at her with the quietest of hums while he thought about the little lives growing inside her. Their children. Siring a clutch seemed like a surefire way to prove his status and worth, but he’d never paused to consider anything past the mating flight. Now, it was all he could think about in his spare time.
His mate’s complete and utter happiness only fueled his own, and G’ran had his work cut out for him when it came to controlling his indomitable brown’s arrogance. Eggs on the way didn’t mean they could slack on their other duties, and channeling Elzebuth’s pride into working hard was an easy way to burn off his excitement.
Anakumath’s call came in the earliest hours of the afternoon, full of quiet insistence, he didn’t need any further explanation.
Elzebuth made his way to the Hatching Grounds as quickly as possible, needing to be at his mate’s side. I am here, my love. He limped across the sands to press his nose to hers, his eyes a deep and quickly whirling purple. He fully understood the privilege she bestowed upon him by allowing him to be here in this moment, and he freely offered up all the love and support that he could for her. Today was finally the day that they would welcome their children into the world.
His presence was comforting. At Elzebuth's approach, Anakumath leaned into him, taking the moment to soak up his touch. And soon they will be, too. she hummed as she broke away from him to start carefully pawing at the sand.
The place she settled on when urged by need was none of the ones she'd considered in the sevendays previously. Whether the thought and preparation had narrowed things down or been unnecessary didn't really cross the gold's mind as the first egg touched the sands. With purples and blues in her eyes she nosed it, carefully resettling its position. Hello, little one, she greeted. Papa, say hello, she urged Elzebuth closer to the egg to make his own greeting as well.
Each egg that followed would go through the same steps - being settled in the sands and greeted with abundant love by both parents. Clutching was not an easy process, even if natural, but the little ones on the other side made that fact forgettable.
Finally, the last egg would be settled next to one of its siblings. Perhaps she would move them all in the candlemarks to follow but for the time being, Anakumath moved to curl around them. She again touched her nose to each shell with a wash of love. Here they are, my love. Aren't they beautiful? she asked Elzebuth.
Martirae. Come and see. There would be many who came on the goldrider's heels, but Anakumath wouldn't blame them for wanting to see.
Oh.
Elzebuth stretched his neck out to gently touch the first egg, widening his eyes as though that would better help him take in the moment and commit it to memory. Hello, little love. He rumbled, love threatening to overwhelm him as he nuzzled the egg’s shell. Hello. How perfect it was--how perfect they inevitably all would be. The brown exhaled slowly as he pulled away, regarding his mate with no small amount of pride.
Each egg was greeted and adored in a similar fashion, and when Anakumath settled down to rest, Elzebuth allowed himself to sit. More than words can describe. His muzzle brushed against the top of Ana’s head, humming proudly. Look at your hard work. He admired their children once more, lowering his head to simply take in the sight of them all. To think that together, they had made something so special.
He would call for G’ran, in time. It was only right for Anakumath to determine who she wanted to see the eggs, and he knew his rider would not be offended if he was not one of the first.
They're ours, my love. I don't think I could ever stop looking.
Soon enough, Martirae would come and see. Soon enough, others would make their own curious glances. Soon. Anakumath wouldn't rush any of the soons. For now, though, it could just be two proud parents and their perfect little ones.
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